The fleeing slavers were unarmoured and hardly expecting gunfire, so the shots were not difficult for Mek to make. (Mek energy weapons: 58+11 = 69, 80+11 = 91, 47+11 = 58) A trio of flashes struck down three fleeing ponies, and they fell to the ground, further panicking the rest of the fleeing slavers. The rioting slaves, however, were too distracted to even notice.

Mek’s cheer over having had three successful shots was interrupted by Viktor tackling him, (Viktor unarmed: 21+30 = 51) but he was able to stand firm, and had an opportunity to wrestle the aggressing dog back.

There were three slaves beating on the stallion who was trying to protect his filly daughter. By the time Ginger had gotten the slaves away, he was pretty badly beaten up; both of his eyes were so swollen and bruised that he could barely keep them open, and blood was trickling from his mouth where their hooves had tried to break his jaw, but he still had his forelegs around the filly, doing his best to shield her from harm. Despite his efforts, the filly was howling in hysterical terror, and her right foreleg had been twisted badly and seemed to hang loose in its socket. There was a long streak of crimson blood on her shoulder that ran partway down her back; it was hard to determine from here if it was her own blood or somepony else’s.

Sanctity’s shot and words went unheeded. Pent up hatred and resentment was finally being unleashed by the slaves – this was their chance to see long overdue justice finally wrought – and a single warning shot to the heavens was going to do little to prevent it. Several slavers collapsed to the ground under the flail of hoofbeats from the slaves, and any slaver that hadn’t already run was quickly overwhelmed.

It wasn’t easy for Xeshir to catch the fleeing slavers, partly because they were running for their lives, which put a certain energy in their step, but also because they hadn’t all run in the same direction. Still, she was able to follow the majority of them.

Mek revelled in satisfaction as three slavers dropped to the ground, skin bubbling and smoking with energy where the plasma shots hit them. He would've taken more shots, had it not been for the small bump Viktor gave him. A quick body check of Viktor told Mek that despite his horribly burned leg, the dog had tried to tackle him to the ground. He had no time to reason, but the dog had prevented him from taking more shots at slavers, slavers that would no doubt go on to cause misery. He roared at Viktor in response, and adopted a combative stance. "What's wrong, Vikta? Not used ta havin' a bum leg?" Mek growled out, giving his pneumatic leg a spritely shake before he retaliated. Now the dog would feel what it's like to get beat up.

---nonlethal pneumatic kick to Viktor's chest, followed by a backhanded paw swipe to his legs to knock him down. If he gets knocked down or otherwise debilitated, taking one shot at the retreating slavers.

Marcus was taken back by the sudden turn of Madness, watching with bewilderment as the slaves turned into savage animals and swarmed across the Slavers.

Marcus was torn. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For the Slavers to be killed? And yet, as he watched the scene before him, he couldn't help but feel that it was wrong. These slaves had fallen, taken to exacting bloody revenge against the Slaver. Taking pleasure in ending the lives of their tormentors.

Then he heard the sounds of the filly.

Turning to Ginger, he saw the unicorn had pulled a badly beaten buck clutching a hysterical filly from the madness. Marcus' eyes widened and he galloped over to them, producing what little healing supplies he had (a Weak Healing Potion and Healing Bandage). Sliding to a stop in front of them, he said, "I beg you, be calm. We'll help as best as we can."

With how the buck was clutching the filly, Marcus knew that he would need some work to get at her and help with what looked to be a very bad leg wound. He showed the healing supplies to the buck and said, "Here, drink this. It will help with your wounds. I can see what I can do about the filly."

If he were to get the buck to calm down, drink the potion, and let Marcus work on the filly, he would use his healing bandage to bind the leg, knowing enough about medicine to know that a moving, hurt leg was not a good thing.

(Using Weak Healing Potion to heal buck and, if possible, using the Healing Bandage on the filly. Medicine 40.)

Sanctity looked over at Mad again, who was now fighting with the other Diamond Dog. He lowered his gun from where it had been raised, pointed at the sky, slowly levelling it at Mek. Then, he aimed at the rifle in his hands. He wasn't going to be like him, but, he needed to stop him firing again. There were ponies out there who were probably dead now because of him.

He squeezed the trigger twice, hoping the either blow the gun out of his hands, or render it useless. Then, he turned back to the slaves, gun in magic. For a second, he contemplated firing into the crowd, to let them now he was serious, but... He couldn't do that either. He felt sick to the pit of his stomach as he watched.

There was nothing he could do. He felt helpless. He just stared, blankly out as he saw the worst of equinity show itself to him. It wasn't that he hadn't seen it before. Hell, he'd been part of that before, but he'd always thought that... That it was the bad ponies who were like that. Good guys didn't do things like this. "Maybe there are no good guys?" he whispered, his voice almost emotionless as he replied to his own thoughts.

Ale's rage began to bubble over when he saw the damage that had been done, and the filly's leg... he wanted to shot them, he wanted to shot them so bad. If anypony could do this to an innocent child, they didn't deserve to be called ponies.

When he heard hoofsteps approaching them he turned and pulled the hammer back on his revolver, expecting another slave who wanted another go at the stallion. When he saw marcus with the healing supplies he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank celestia somepony else is helping."

Ale turned back around and drew the other revolver, cocked it, and pointed both of the hoof cannons towards the crowd of slaves. "Next pony to lay a hoof on that child is getting a new breathing hole in their head!" ale warned as he took a defensive stance.

(Fire at the next pony(s) that tries to hurt the filly or her father. Guns-60)

Mek kicked out at Viktor (Mek unarmed: 70+28 = 98) catching him in the chest, knocking him back, and then followed up with a blow from his chunky paw, (Mek unarmed: 46+28 = 74) knocking Viktor back onto the ground. Having freed his arm, he found that most of the slavers were too far away by this point, or had slaves surrounding them, and so found no good targets.

Sanctity took aim and fired. (Sanctity guns: 77+32 = 109) The bullet deflected off the side of the plasma pistol’s barrel, not delivering enough force to knock it from Mek’s hand, but an important-looking doohickey buzzed morosely, throwing out a couple of blue sparks.

* * *

“Get away from her!” the stallion grunted hoarsely, glaring at Ginger and Marcus with terrified eyes as he held the filly against him with one hoof, frantically jabbing his other forehoof toward them, more as a warning than anything else.

After a moment, he squinted his swollen eyes at Marcus. “Wait, you’re not...” He was cut off by a few violent coughs. The filly’s hysterical screams turned to terrified sobbing. “It... It’s okay, Bell,” he said, not sounding entirely like he believed it himself. “You’re gonna be okay.” He turned back to Marcus, took the offered potion, and fed it to the filly, whose loud sobbing subsided into whimpering and sniffling as the pain seemed to abate. “I can’t see. I don’t know if I can run. Please, get my daughter to safety.”

Ginger didn’t need to fire at any of the slaves; they already seemed to be calming down now that they felt justice had be wrought. The area was littered with the bodies of crushed slavers, those that had either stayed to fight or been too slow to get away. Farther in the distance, the few remaining slavers kept aimlessly running. Without somepony pursuing, talking and subsequently regrouping them, there was a good chance that they’d be killed by the wasteland, either by wild animals, exposure, hunger or thirst.

As Xeshir kept chasing the slaves she got an idea to group them together. Whenever one of them tried to run away from the group she would fire her 9mm SMG in his or her direction. She would miss on purpose, but hoped that they would eventually group together once again. While doing this she kept shouting. "Stop running! Please! I want to help!" as she clenched the gun. Why did it have to be so hard to do something good? Why couldn´t things just...Work out for everybody?

Ale stood firm as the chaos finally seemed to subside. There where a lot of dead slavers, but isen't that a good thing. After all that's what they where hired on to do. Then why was ale angry, why did he want to kill the slaves he'd just helped escape. Ale holstered the revolvers. He was done, done helping these...monsters. Enough of the slavers where dead or going to die to consider the job done. He trotted over to marcus and looked down at the filly, her eyes filled with tears. No, no there was something else ale could do.

The unicorn bent down next to the stallion and offered some reasuring words, "I promise you, i'll make sure your little girl stays safe." He wrapped the filly in his magic but did not try to remove her until her father willingly let go. "Bell was it? Your going to be okay. I won't let anything bad happen to you." He said to the filly. He was always good with kids and hopefully he'd gain her trust. "Marcus." Ale said as he turned to the zebra healer. "Do what you can for the father."

(Convincing father to leave bell in my care. speech-30, CHR-6.Foal at heart- Convincing bell that i'll take care of her.)

Marcus watched silently as the buck took the offered potion and instead fed it to the filly, his daughter, Bell, apparently. He watched silently as the buck reassured her that everything would be okay and asked that they look after her. He kept watching, even as Ginger asked him to deal with the father.

For now, Marcus was aware of nothing but him, the father, Bell, and Ginger.

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a breath before shaking his head and looking at the father. "You will not need to worry about anypony other than you looking after her. This I promise."

With this said and Ginger grabbing for Bell, Marcus took his last remaining Bandage and began his work on the father as best as he could. After that, he would stand up and say to Ginger, "Keep watch. I will look for something to help with their wounds." From there, he would head off to search the area for some ingredients for even a basic healing salve, cursing himself for not preparing such potions and remedies the night before, when there was still plenty of time.

(Bandaging the father: Medicine 40 and then searching the area for alchemic ingredients: Survival 52. Perk: Green Hoof: Alchemy 65)

Last edited by Marcus on Wed Feb 20, 2013 1:41 am; edited 1 time in total

Mek loomed over Viktor a satisfied look on his face. "You remember dis, Vikta. Remember dat ah didn't kill ya, even after ya shoved me about an' defended slavers, finkin' dat you'z an alpha male 'er sumfin' like dat. Ah've been 'round lot longer than you 'ave Vikta, Ah know that playin' up as da 'alpha' only gets ya killed." He growled out,hacking up some spit on the ground next to Viktor. He raised his plasma pistol again, only to see that something was sparking off of it. "Stupid zap gunz, always breakin'wif da slightest shake." he angrily muttered out as he jostled the gun around. He ejected the plasma battery, preferring not to risk a discharge or an overload. There was now a pile of slaver corpses to get rid of. He smiled, having the perfect tool for the job strapped onto his back. He glared at Ginger and Marcus, who were helping one of the slavers and his filly. "If da stallion can' walk, put 'im out of his mis'ry and drop 'im on da pile. Ah'z disposin' of da bodies..." He snarled out. He gave his plasma pistol one last looking over, and found a small dent, just the perfect size for a Repeater round. His eyes floated to Sanctity, and a deep growl built in his throat. He mentally swore that if that unicorn ever fired a gun in his direction again, he'd twist his sneaky little head off

--- Approaching the area where i shot down the three slavers, dragging them onto the pile of dead slavers (even if they're still alive and just crippled) and burning the corpses with my flamer. Saving all of my AP for defense in case Viktor decides he wants to get back up for another go.

Sanctity moved himself between the team of Marcus and Ginger and the rest of the slaves. They didn't seem like they were ready to start trouble, but, he couldn't just stand there and watch for any longer. He didn't say anything as he did stood, but his rifle was, despite not being pointed at anyone, ready to fire at a moments notice. He looked shaken up as he stood though, his face was slackened and his eyes weren't focused, just observing passively. He'd wanted to give the slavers a second chance but... Well, what had happened, had happened. The kid and hopefully the father too were going to survive, and maybe the few who'd ran just after he'd told them to would survive. It wasn't much of a chance, but there was a chance.

The slavers that Xeshir was corralling with skillful gunwork continued to flee, despite her assurances. After a minute or so, a few of them began to lag, and shortly after, the lot of them slowed down and eventually stopped.

Exhausted and panting, the slavers formed into a group and collectively turned to her, their expressions ranging from defiant anger to helpless terror. “Help us?!” one of them shrieked, “Stop bucking shooting at us, you psycho!”

* * *

Mek dragged the corpses into a heap. One of them noiselessly screamed at Mek in horror, spasming slightly as the diamond dog dragged him over to the other corpses. Standing back, Mek reached for and swung the weighty nozzle to point at the bodies. He then spent the next few minutes trying to get the pilot light burning for long enough for him to douse the bodies in flaming liquid. He wasn’t sure if there was a pressure issue, or if something had been broken when Grace fell, but he was unable to get it working.

* * *

The father nodded exaggeratedly at Ginger. “Good, get her out of here. I’d never forgive myself if she came to further harm.” He spat a bloodied wad onto the ground. “Go with the unicorn, sweetie,” he said, trying to speak in a lighter tone, and placed Bell in Ginger’s hooves. She cried louder and reached back towards her father, with her good foreleg. “No, no, no, I’m scared, I don’t want to go!”

(Ginger’s reaction roll for Bell: 4+9 = 13) Ginger did what just seemed to come naturally, doing his best to reassure the filly, offering platitudes and warmth and comfort. The father smiled weakly and nodded, and eventually the filly struggled less against Ginger’s grasp.

* * *

Whilst the wasteland may seem a dead and desolate place, to the trained eye who knew what they were seeking, it was abundant in plants and minerals that could be used to concoct any manner of wondrous substance. Marcus determined that the slaves were probably going to leave the stallion he bandaged alone, and went off in search. (Marcus survival+alchemy: 89+26+32 = 147) He quite quickly found what he was looking for; a lack of clean water would make creating the salve a little difficult, and the lack of a good mortar and pestle would make the salve a bit gritty, but he had all he needed to create a couple of doses of healing salve and even a dose of blood-stopping goo.

* * *

Sanctity’s assumption was correct; the slaves seemed to have abruptly lost interest in their former captives and by this point were pretty much just looking for instruction. A couple were tending to the injured as best as they were able; the rest mostly milled about, waiting for their rescuers to lead them back to wherever they were expected.

“We going somewhere,” one of them yelled out to the others, “or are you gonna hang around and dote on the slavers?”

As soon as the slaves stopped Xeshir got to work. She put her 9mm SMG away and opened her saddlebags, then dumped every single edible supply she had. Cram, Fancy Buck Cakes, Radgator meat, everything was dumped down in a small pile. "Take this." She said as she pointed them to the pile, which should be enough for three days more or less. She then checked her surroundings and, using her scout training from Caesar´s Legion to locate her position, pointed them north. "New Applelossa should be that way, Stableton may be closer but the slaves might recognize you." She said as she searched her saddlebags and also dumped a knife on the pile, then after thinking or a few moments threw her 9mm SMG and some ammo in there as well. "This should be enough to protect you until you can get there and hunt some small game if you run low on supplies." After making sure they had enough she closed her saddlebags and started trotting away before turning back to the slavers. "Promise me you will never turn to slavery again...Because if you do, I won´t be so forgiving next time." She said with a slow, calm voice, but with eyes that promised swift retribution if they broke the promise.

Mek's smile slowly faded into an annoyed frown as he thumbed the trigger, but all it made was an airy breathing noise as the light flicked on and off. He cursed loudly and shook the nozzle around. "Stupid frackin' pony engineerin'." He muttered angrily under his breath, giving the nozzle a firm shake before unstrapping the tank from his back and spinning the valve on top of the tank. He drained about a third of the liquid fuel inside the tank on top of the bodies, took a few steps back, and pulled a pack of matches out of an inner coat pocket. He struck a match, took a moment to stare at the flames, and tossed it into the fuel-soaked pile of slavers. He watched the resulting conflagration, unable to look away from it. He silently resolved to take a look at the flamer when he got back to Stableton. Mek lit up a cigarette and breathed the smoke in, and the smoke he inhaled exited through a hole in his chest where one of his lungs had been punctured when the bombs dropped. "Where'd Xeshir go?" He asked, looking around suspiciously.

Ale took the filly into his care. He understood what she was feeling all to well, he'd seen his own parents die to the cruelty of others, he prayed to celestia that bell would not have to go through what he had to all those years ago. "C'mon bell, lets give marcus room to work." He said as he moved his gear form one saddlebag to the other to use the now empty one as a makeshift carrier, setting the wounded filly down in it so she wouldn't have to walk on her injured leg. As ale started to walk over to sanctity he looked over to the young pony. "Are you hungry?" He asked hoping to get her mind off of the events that just happened.

Sanctity's lip twitched in disgust as the slavers treated the burning slavers who'd died by their hooves as if they were below animals. He ignored it though, he was done attempting to talk reason into these ponies. And Mad Mek, who he was pretty sure was a literate feral at this point. All he seemed to want to do was kill. He just stood by, and waited, deciding not to speak at all. He just wanted to be home. He just wanted to drink some vodka and go to sleep right now.

Marcus took the small ingredients he had found and made his way back to the father. He dropped his saddlebags to the ground to give him a surfce to work on, thinking to himself, Next chance I get, I will buy proper tools for this. Curching and mixing the ingredients in this way would lead to subpar results. They would still be results, nonetheless, and Marcus set to work on mixing up the ingredients to the proper salves to help the wounded buck.

As he worked his ear twitched at the question asked by one of the Freed Slaves, prompting him to turn his head to address whoever had spoken.

"I know you have been hurt by these Slavers, forced into a maisha (life) you did not want. This madness should have been foreseen, but it has now passed. I will make no excuses for the Slavers, nor will I try to ignore their past dhambi (sin)."

He turned his attention to the wounded father and filly and let out a sigh before addressing the slaves again, working at his mixtures as he did so.

"This buck has proven that he is above the normal Slaver by risking his life to protect this filly. This filly, who was injured by your hooves. I will not leave a filly injured and in pain, nor will I wasiijali (forsake) the life of her protector, her baba (father). They will be helped as much as I can. And if you want our protection, you will wait until I have finished with them."

His voice held no malice or anger, each word spoken just loud enough for the closest slaves to hear him. His voice was flat and his words were direct, said for the benefit of making his point clear. And when he was done speaking, he focused all of his attention at the task at hoof. He would be saving the father and child, that much he was determined to do.

[Mixing up ingredients for the gritty healing salves and blood-stopping goo. Alchemy: 65]

As soon as Xeshir added the weapons to the pile of supplies she was leaving, a couple of slavers dove towards them, and once armed, pointed them at Xeshir. A tense moment later, they held back from firing, and as Xeshir trotted off, if she turned her head to look at them, she’d notice them distributing the supplies amongst themselves and beginning to organise themselves for the journey ahead.

* * *

Bell seemed to be having trouble paying much attention to Ginger’s words. She instead burrowed herself deeply into the the saddlebag until she could poke only the top of her head out, giving terrified glances towards the slaves and yearning glances back to her father.

A few of the slaves nearer to Marcus gave exaggerated sighs. “I suppose that sort of dumb thinking is what we should expect from a stripe,” one of them grumbled.

“Just finish up so we can get moving,” another said. “I don’t want to spend the night out here in the open wastes if we can avoid it.”

Marcus was unimpeded from his efforts to work on preparing the alchemical concoctions, apart from time, he was able to get both into the approximate state they should be in. As he worked, the stallion gave a grunt. “I guess I should thank you. Didn’t really expect anypony to help me. Helping my daughter is enough, zebra.”

Mek couldn't help but to nod his head in agreement when the slave suggested to get moving, taking another deep draft of his cigarette. He was calm now, the blood-fueled agitation now having completely subsided. He was back to his relatively normal, harmlessly grumpy state. His eyes drifted over to Xeshir, and he immediately noticed that she was short one SMG. His face twisted into a tight-lipped frown, and he placed himself in front of her, arms crossed and cigarette resting in his mouth. He exhaled some smoke through his chest. "Lettin' 'em go, Ah can understand. You'z soft after all. But givin' em a gun? Ah'z not sure if Ah can agree wif dat, Xeshir." He said between inhalations of his cigarette. His helmet visor was up, and his dead eyes stared into Xeshir's. There was none of that playfulness that dominated the night before, but a promise that hostile response would bring a slow, bloody death. Just because he regretted being a raider for a short period in his life, doesn't mean the methods and practices left him.

Sanctity continued to just stand there passively, no longer wanting to add to the air of mutual contempt that was building around them. But he couldn't stop formulating exactly what he was going to say to that ghoul when he could. 'Shut the fuck up! You've done nothing but cause problems! I wish we'd never come across you!' A small smile rose to his lips. Yeah, that'd work. He could be scary when he wanted to, he was sure of it. But, no, he just wanted to get these ponies back to Stableton. No more infighting for now, there was no point.

He nodded his head in silent welcome as Xeshir reappeared, calmly noting what the dog had spotted and smiling appreciatively. He was glad somepony cared enough to do that. Especially someone who actually knew what they were doing.

Marcus held his tongue as the one Slave addressed him as a stripe, a term Marcus was more than familiar with. That was not something he needed to focus on now. When the Slaver commented on Marcus helping him, Marcus paused to look at him and said, "I do not commonly help Slavers. Do not abuse my generosity at helping you."

He returned his attention to the mixtures and soon had two concoctions that might help out the filly and her father. Once he had done so, he turned to Ginger and gave the Blood-Stopping goo to him. "Bell looked like she was bleeding earlier. Use this if she is till bleeding."

He then turned to the Father and began applying the Healing Salve to the areas that needed the most attention. "Hold still. This may sting."

Ale took the container of goo in his magic and looked to bell. It was hard to see if she was injured from her place in his saddle bags. "Bell, you still hurt at all?" Ginger asked as he looked back at the filly. He looked the filly over from his angle to see if he could spot any sign of her injury. He'd also look her in the face when she'd reply, he expected the possibility of her lying about her health if it meant that the medicine would go to helping her father.

(PER-7 Checking bell for injury as well as signs of her lying for her fathers sake. If she needs the goo then apply to bleeding area(s).)

As Xeshir returned to the others she looked at Mek with confusion. "Letting them go? Giving them a GUN? What on equestria are you talking about?" She asked. She then looked down at her empty SMG holster. "The only reason I am not sporting my lovely SMG is because it broke beyond repair. I tripped while chasing the slavers and landed with my face. SMG took the brunt of the impact against a rock and broke it in two. I barely noticed though, I was too busy getting up again and chasing the slavers, who managed to outrun me." The zebra said with a tinge of frustration in her voice. "They won´t make it alive though. They don´t have food, weapons or are even organized. If they reach a town intact it will truly be a miracle." The zebra then turned to the group and her face turned confused at the mess that had happened. The zebra mare turned to Sanctity. "Care to catch me up to what happened?" She asked.

Sanctity nodded. "Slaves decided to kill the slavers that didn't run. Mad' burnt the bodies." he said, before nodding his head towards where Marcus and Ginger were taking care of the surviving pair. "They tried to kill a filly and her father, but Ginger stopped them". His voice sounded a little empty, as if his emotions were dampened by the whole debacle. He wished he'd packed some more chems for him to take. He hadn't thought this would be something that would bring such infighting and moral outrage. It shouldn't have been so difficult, just rescue the slaves, drive the slavers of. Simple, right? He sighed and then looked back at the ex-slaves, continuing his silent watch over them.

“Nnn... No, I’m fine!” Bell dropped further into the saddlebag and gave Ginger a wide-eyed look. (Ginger perception: 89+35 = 124) Ginger could clearly tell she was lying; he gave her a firm, silent stare for a bit longer, and her facade broke. “Um... maybe a little.” She looked away, her ears dropping against her head, and looked as though she might start crying again. “A lot, actually.”

It took equal parts persuasion and cleverness for Ginger to find a long, bloody gash along Bell’s back. He applied the goo along the length of the wound, and as soon as he was done, the filly seemed to calm down.

* * *

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude,” the slaver mumbled, and went quiet as Marcus applied the healing salve to his face and jaw. The salve went to work, dramatically reducing the swelling and allowing the slaver to see better than he could through swollen lids.

“Thank you,” he grunted again. “I don’t really have any way of repaying you.” He looked about, getting several angry glances from the slaves. “So, what do I do now? Bell’s safe, right?”

(I can’t really roll for you persuading the others, Xeshir. That’d be a bit gamey. It’s up to the others to make their own rolls in this case.)